Outpouring of Emotion
by MissDoctorDonna
Summary: Chris and Vin having a bonding moment on a very cold morning. Follows on from Warmth and Security. No slash, just brotherly love.


**This is a pure unadulterated wallow in mushy, fraternal love. Totally out of character. No plot, no action, no slash. Just simple indulgence of an overly active mind on a dreary day. I own nothing and make no profit from these fics.**

Chris Larabee pushed his way into the Saloon forcefully, eager to escape the biting cold of the wind that roared through the town. Nodding at Inez, who stood behind the bar looking just as unhappy with the weather as everyone else he'd met that day, he strode over to stove to warm his hands briefly before moving to the table that he and the six other peacekeepers usually occupied. Unsurprisingly, he was the only customer in the place as most everyone else had found a warm place and were refusing to budge. Buck would be snuggled up with one of his willing bedmates, unlikely to make an appearance until hunger forced him outdoors. JD had ridden out to check on Nettie and Casey Wells, so in all likelihood would be safely ensconced in the cheerful kitchen soaking up heat from the well used stove and the affection of the women. Nathan had a patient to care for up in his snugly heated clinic, so wouldn't be down anytime soon. Chris paused in his tally, as he gratefully accepted a hot cup of coffee and a plate of eggs, hash browns and bacon from Inez.

"Gracias, Inez," he murmured, holding tight to the hot mug for a few moments before picking up his knife and fork and diving into his meal.

"De nada, Senor," she replied, smiling at him as she wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself. Moving back to the bar, Inez wondered if she should purchase some warmer clothes. The ones she'd brought from Mexico were insufficient protection from the freezing weather of the north. Perhaps if the day warmed up a little later, she would ask Ezra to mind the bar whilst she went to ask Mrs Potter for her opinion.

Chewing thoughtfully, Chris continued to mentally place his men. Josiah was over at the jailhouse, sitting watch on Mr Henderson who was sleeping off a drunk. The old potbelly stove heated the small building nicely, so when last seen Josiah was happily reading and drinking coffee, whilst absent-mindedly munching on some of the oatmeal cookies that Mrs Potter regularly left at the jailhouse for them. Ezra would be wrapped up in his quilts, cuddled into his feather pillows and mattress, dreaming peacefully of wealth and success. Dynamite would be needed to shift that man from his bed in this weather. Chris chuckled to himself as he realised that if he had a bed like Ezra's, he'd be hard pressed to leave it too.

Scraping up the last of his egg yolk with a buttered biscuit, Chris pondered the whereabouts of his last man. Vin usually slept in his wagon, or out of town wrapped up in his threadbare bedroll. Neither place was particularly warm and Chris had seen the younger man limping stiffly from the wagon on many occasions last winter. When questioned, Vin had told him that he'd slept awkwardly, but Chris had always suspected it was more. He'd seen old men with rheumatism move in much the same way that Vin had, but they usually had gnarled hands as a sign of the ailment. Vin's hands were always fine, but there was a definite look of pain in the tracker's blue eyes on cold mornings. Then Ezra had confirmed that there was something wrong with the tracker's back a couple of weeks ago. He wondered if he should alert Nathan, but dismissed the idea out of loyalty to Vin. If the tracker wanted Nathan to know, he'd have told him himself.

Leaning back in his chair, Chris lifted his mug to silently signal Inez for a refill. Watching her take his empty plate and fill his mug with more of the fragrant brew, he murmured another thank you before savouring another sip of the satisfyingly bracing liquid. A cheerful whistling drew his gaze to the top of the stairs, where the subject of his thoughts had suddenly appeared. Smirking behind his cup, Chris watched the lithe, young Texan bound down the stairs with an obscene amount of vim and vigour for such an early hour. He'd noticed that Vin had seemed more energetic and mischievous lately. Ever since he'd gone to Ezra for help, the tracker had seemed lighter and younger than he had before. Also, cleaner and he seemed to have developed a particular odour somewhat akin to horse liniment. No doubt he'd been rubbing something on his back to keep him limber.

Chris was pleased that the two lone wolves of his pack seemed to have bonded into a mutually beneficial friendship. He'd often worried that despite his deep connection with Vin, that the younger man would leave the fold for his own misguided reasons of protecting his brothers from the danger of bounty hunters. Surprisingly, the dark clad leader had found himself worrying about their enigmatic conman too. Ezra was the seventh and, whilst he seemed to enjoy the company of the other six, he hadn't formed any close ties to any of them prior to Vin. Chris and Vin, Buck and JD, and Josiah and Nathan had paired up, leaving the aloof gambler to lurk on the fringes of the family as the spare. Without close ties, Chris had been concerned that the southerner would float away at some point. But now, he felt confident that he'd bound them both to him, if not the others. He could now sympathise with his older sister since he viewed the two young men as his younger brothers. JD he left to Buck's tender care and Nathan to Josiah's.

Jostled out of his ruminations when the tracker threw himself into the chair beside the gunslinger, Chris gave a glare and a growl to warn his young pup to calm down. Vin blithely ignored him as usual, eagerly greeting Inez as she came back in from the kitchen, having heard the newcomer.

"Ma usual breakfast please, Inez, and don't spare the coffee and biscuits. I's so hungry, I could eat a horse and chase his rider," called Vin, with an infectious, boyish grin that bought smiles to both Inez and Chris' faces. "Howdy, cowboy. Surprised to see anyone in here so early, what with the weather the way it is."

"Don't call me cowboy, ya scruffy, skinny assed Texan," growled Chris, with a twinkle in his eye to show that he wasn't serious. "I'd hate to have to dig a grave in frozen ground just 'cos ya forced me to shoot ya."

Responding with a mischievous, lop-sided smile that made him look half his age, Vin just stole Chris' mug and took a healthy slurp of the older man's coffee.

Shaking his head, the black clad man studied his younger friend, happy to note that there was no stiffness or pain, despite the frigid temperatures of the night before

Chris sat pondering on the fact that the tracker had clearly come from upstairs, so he'd either been visiting someone up there or had slept in one of the rooms. Chris knew for a fact that there was a limited number of rooms upstairs, and that Inez and Ezra held the two largest ones. A couple were rented to bar girls from the other saloon in town, since they felt safer around Ezra than with the somewhat dubious character who own the Broken Arrow Saloon. Chris smirked as he pictured the look of mock outrage that the gambler would adopt if told that the girls and Inez viewed him as their protector. Oh yes, the gambler would huff and grumble about the indignity of being an unpaid bodyguard, but he'd be secretly proud and pleased. Always lauding himself as a gentleman, the young southerner truly was one in all senses of the word despite his upbringing. His gentleness with women, children and animals was well known and respected. The last room was rented out on a nightly basis to people who were too inebriated to get on their horses and go back to their ranches. It was on the ground floor though, so Vin hadn't stayed there.

Watching Inez blush at the happy smile and warm thanks of the Texan, when he accepted his plate with glee totally unaware of the effect he had on the pretty bar manager, Chris chuckled silently. Unlike Buck, Vin had no idea of how attractive he was and was painfully shy around those of the opposite sex, so that ruled out the thought of Vin sharing a bed with one of the bar girls. Inez, Mrs Potter, Mary Travis, Nettie and Casey Wells seemed to be the only women who could get more than a few words out of the young man. Mainly because the young tracker viewed Inez, Mary and Casey as attached to Buck, Chris and JD respectively, so they were safe for him to talk to without anyone getting foolish notions. As for Nettie, well, she was a second mother to him and he cherished her for that nurturing, if gruff, attention. Mrs Potter seemed to have adopted Ezra in a similar manner, much to the gambler's pleased chagrin, so Vin saw the kindly shopkeeper as an aunt of sorts.

A grin broke out over the gunslinger's face as he reflected that Ezra held much the same feelings towards the women, with the exception of Nettie Wells. He doubted that Ez viewed Nettie as an aunt, in fact the cardsharp had been known to refer to the feisty rancher as a wizened crone on many an occasion. The pair had a healthy respect for each other's sharp tongues and agile minds, but behind the tart comments Chris suspected they also held a sneaking fondness for each other.

Vin had all but licked his plate clean by this stage and drained his coffee mug dry twice. Inez had simply left the pot on the table for the two of them, along with the sugar bowl for the sweet toothed Texan. Leaning back with a satisfied belch, he tipped his hat forward and settled back for a post meal doze.

"Vin?"

"Yeah?"

"You been sharing a bed with Ez all winter?"

Lifting his head and squinted one half opened blue eye quizzically at his friend, Vin studied the face opposite him for any ridicule or disgust, his muscles tensed. Seeing nothing but open curiosity, he answered, "Yeah. That a problem?"

Seeing Vin's good mood start to waiver, Chris made an effort to relax his features and muscles as he offered, "Nah, no problem. Just wondering why ya don't use your room at the boarding house, if it's too cold for the wagon or camping out."

Vin had a room at the boarding house, along with Buck, JD and himself, but rarely used it. In fact, Chris was sure that he'd seen Old Man Jacobs emerging from it the other day. Wouldn't surprise him in the least if the soft hearted Texan had let the old homeless man bunk down in the room that the judge paid for, rather than use it himself. Jacobs had been a bronc buster all his life and his body was paying for it now. Even though he was only in his fifties, Ted Jacobs moved like a man of ninety and felt the cold terribly. No longer able to hold a job, he rambled around from town to town, eking out a life doing odd jobs in exchange for food. Vin and Ezra had taken the man under their wing of protection, finding him bits of work and buying him a meal when there was no work to be found. Chris smiled at the ingenuity his boys showed at providing for the man whilst maintaining his pride.

Taking his time to think out an answer, Vin finally said, "Ain't just the cold. Iffun it's just the cold, I could get warmer blankets, mebbe use ma buff'lo skin. Hell, could even get one of them fancy feather mattresses for the wagon. But see," Vin leaned forward to look directly into Chris' eyes as he continued earnestly, "Iffun I get into ma wagon, or out in the open, or even in ma room, and get real warm and comfy then I'd sleep too deep. Sleeping deep when yer've gotta price on yer head is a sure way to stay sleepin' permanent like. Leaves yer open to the mischief of others."

Nodding thoughtfully, Chris accepted Vin's answer and was surprised when his normally taciturn friend continued.

"'Sides, Ez is a good friend ta me, Chris. Ya know I got trouble with ma back 'cos I seen yer watching me last winter, when I's hobblin' round like an old man. And I know ya know that Ez took care of me coupla weeks back after we came back from the last chase. Well, he offered then ter let me share his bed anytime it was cold, or when my back acts up, 'cos he knows his bed is better fer ma back and that I sleep better when I know he's there ta watch out fer me. Damn gambler sleeps like the dead but comes awake at a mouse's fart, gun in hand. Says he's found it to be a 'useful trait' throughout his life. Guess I can understand that. Been some places where being able ter come awake in a heartbeat came in right handy."

A feeling of sorrow at the hard lives lead by both his young friends swept through Chris as he looked at the limpid, blue eyes of the Texan; eyes that seemed to hold the pain of centuries. The deaths of his family had nearly broken him, but Chris had led an otherwise carefree life. His childhood had been a happy one, as had his early adulthood. His marriage had been blissful. It didn't seem fair that these two men had known such pain from so early an age. It amazed him that they'd managed to turn out such fine, caring men, despite all the hard knocks life had thrown at them.

"So that's why I bin sleeping up there. Ain't nothing funny going on, cowboy. He ain't doing nothing but being a good friend ta me." Hesitating slightly, Vin looked up at Chris through his lashes and murmured, "This won't go no further'n this table, will it? Ain't no need to have the other's fussin' at us and yer know what Bucklin's gonna say. But we ain't knockin' boots, Chris. I don't wanna bring no trouble to Ez. He's been good ter me and I don't want the others ta make him feel bad fer it. Hard enough ter get him ter show his true self as 'tis, without him being made ta feel awkward for it. He ain't tried nothing on me, honest. He's… hell, Chris, he's ma brother… takes care 'f me better'n anybody since ma…"

Vin swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. He knew he was overreacting but he needed Chris to understand how he felt. His voice raspier and his accent thicker than usual, the tracker hurried on, "I dunno what I'd do iffun he stopped caring 'bout me now, Chris. Never missed having someone to take care a me b'fore, 'cos I ain't never had it, but now… now I got you to protect me like … like you's ma big brother 'most. And you and me can sit and enjoy the silence. Then I got Ez. He's ma big brother too, but he's the one takes care 'f me iffun I's sick or hurt or just blue. He helps me with ma words and says I'm smart."

Chris swallowed at his own lump of emotion at the wonder in Vin's big blue eyes at being thought of as clever. The gunslinger called down blessings on the wily Southerner for bringing that look to Vin's face. Poor kid hadn't had any chance to learn to read in his childhood, most of his foster families only being interested in a source of labour, rather than a child. Mary had started him on his path to becoming literate, but it appeared that the gambler was seeing through on her good start. Knowing Vin would be more comfortable around Ez than the pretty newspaperwoman and having seen the Southerner with the town's and the Seminole village's children, Chris had no doubt that Ezra was the right person for the job. Pulling his wandering thoughts back, he focused on what Vin was saying.

"Ain't never had anyone tell me I's smart 'fore, Chris. Most everyone I met thought I's dumb as a box of hammers 'n had no problem telling me that ter ma face. Ya get told something often 'nough, ya start on thinkin' it's true. But Ez, he was real clear on telling me that I's just as smart as him. Real clear. He said there was a big difference 'tween unintelligent and uneducated. Said all the education in the world can't make a dumb man smart, but that an intelligent man is always lookin' ta learn what he can from books he reads, or people he meets, or from life in general. That since I'd asked Mary to help me learn ta read, 'n since I 'membered the fancy words he uses 'n ask him what they mean, then that's a sure sign that I'm an intelligent man. Said that a dumb man wouldn't be able to track like I can, or judge the weather, or…. Or write the poems I do. I don't know iffun he's right 'bout me being as smart as him or not, but it sure is nice ta hear. I'm telling ya, I's used to being cared 'bout now and I ain't sure iffun I could go back to feeling so terrible alone..."

Seeing that Vin had uncharacteristically worked himself up into a state over the possible misconception and the loss of the gambler's nurturing, Chris held up his hands in supplication. Vin had turned to him in his anguish, one hand involuntarily reaching to take a hold of the older man's duster. Using the same tone of voice that he used to gentle horses, and that he'd used to soothe his son's night terrors, he murmured, "Calm down, Vin. I believe ya. It's not the first time that two friends have shared a warm bed on a cold night, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Hell, Buck and me have been known to roll in together when it's been colder than a witch's tit and there was no women to play bed warmer for us. Ain't nothing wrong with it but I won't say anything to the others. None of my business anyway. I'm just glad that Ez is looking out for you. Can't see any reason for that to change either. Between you and me, I think ole Ez enjoys mother henning ya too much to ever stop doing it. It'd take more than Buck's teasing or anyone's disapproval to stop him from caring 'bout ya. Same goes for me. I don't want to be alone anymore either, so I'm not planning on throwing away the family we've found here."

His ruffled feathers smoothed back down as Vin accepted Chris' words and settled back into his chair. Embarrassed at his outburst, Vin wondered at why he'd been so emotional. Scrubbing his hands over his face and rubbing his damp eyes, he felt vaguely unsettled. Neither man was used to expressing their emotions, so they took a few moments to come to terms with what had been said. Both sipped at their now cool coffee, hoping to alleviate the ache of tear constrained throats and oddly lightened hearts.

Suddenly the silence was broken by the wry voice of the gunslinger.

"Is Buck right? Does he shuffle those damn cards in his sleep too?"

Vin snorted back a laugh before answering, "Bucklin's full of crap."

Both men chuckled quietly. A comfortable silence enveloped them as they sat and savoured the warmth of the saloon and their brotherhood.


End file.
